The Closer He Gets

by Janice Kay Johnson

  Personally, he was a lot more worried about the increasingly vicious threats on top of her slashed tires. They probably saw her, rightly, as the more vulnerable target. His testimony would be drastically weakened if the second witness suddenly claimed Antonio had gone for the deputy’s gun and had kept lunging at him until Hayes finally knocked him to the ground.

  His first instinct was to tell her not to answer the damn phone again if she didn’t recognize the number. But he had second thoughts. If they couldn’t get through to her that way, they’d feel compelled to try something else. A lot of dangerous possibilities fell under the “something else” category.

  “Listen.” This was impulse, and probably stupid, but he was going with it anyway. “A bunch of people are supposed to show up Sunday and Monday to help me put on a new roof.”

  “A bunch?” She sounded pleased. “Oh, good. I’d hoped the names I gave you would turn out to be useful.”

  “I haven’t called any of them yet. My brother is local.” My brother. It felt weird to say, but good, too. “He organized some of his friends.”

  “You didn’t say anything about a brother.”

  “We’ve been estranged. I didn’t even know he was here in town until we came face-to-face.”

  “Oh, my.”

  Zach laughed. “You could say that. Anyway, some women are coming, too. They’ve planned a potluck. I thought you might enjoy it.”

  Silence. His pulse kicked up.

  “I thought we were trying to avoid being seen together,” she said cautiously at last.

  “If the threats escalate again, I’m throwing that out the window,” he said, making sure she knew he meant it. Funny, when he hadn’t even known he was thinking that way. “But I doubt anyone who would report us will be there Sunday, and that’s assuming anyone recognizes you. Did I say my brother is with the sheriff’s department, too? A couple other deputies are coming, but he says they’re good guys. Otherwise, none of his friends have any reason to know what’s going on with us.”

  Whatever that is, he thought, unwilling to lie to himself. His need to keep her safe had nothing to do with his invitation. Or maybe it did. He could relax if she was close, if he could reassure himself of her safety by scanning the yard until he saw her.

  “I...”

  He held his breath while she hesitated.

  Then, “Thank you,” she said. “That sounds like fun. I assume the women get to work, too.”

  Relief rushed over him. Too much relief. “As much or as little as you want.”

  “Can I bring some food?”

  “I’ll pass the word for Paige to call you. I’m told she’s trying for a balance of hot dishes, desserts and what-have-you.” He was a little bemused by that, because what difference did it make what food appeared, as long as there was enough of it?

  But it must be a woman thing because Tess said, “Oh, good.”

  He gave her a few more details, asked her to call tomorrow morning whether there was another threat or not so he knew before he started the day that she was okay, and tossed the phone aside. Then he glanced at the clock.

  Oh, crap. He really needed to get out the door and he hadn’t even shaved yet.

  Just as well not to give himself time to think about why he was trying to make his relationship with his fellow witness personal.

  * * *

  TESS HAD TO park a block away. She hadn’t expected the size of the crowd she’d seen in the yard and on the roof when she’d driven past.

  Apparently she was fashionably late. She locked up and walked to Zach’s house, her Crock-Pot heavy in her arms. Her work gloves were balanced on the lid.

  The fact that Zach had invited her made her a little bit nervous, but even more excited. The result was butterflies in her stomach.

  A pretty brunette crossed the yard to meet her. “Are you Stella or Tess?”

  “Tess.” She hoisted the Crock-Pot. “Baked beans.”

  “Yum. Why don’t you bring it in the house? The electricity is still on. The men seem confident they won’t crash through the ceiling and electrocute themselves on the way down.” She flashed a smile as she led the way to the front porch. “I’m Paige, by the way. I’m engaged to Zach’s brother.”

  Geez. Typical man, not to have said who Paige was. Tess picked her way carefully up the obviously rotten steps to the front porch. “I haven’t met Bran,” she said. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

  “Thank you.” She preened, lifting a hand to display a diamond ring. “Who knew planning for a wedding was practically a full-time job?”

  Not Tess.

  Paige’s forehead crinkled. “It was really odd, the way he had a brother materialize from nowhere.”

  Intrigued, Tess asked, “You don’t believe they are brothers?”

  “Oh, they’re brothers. You can’t mistake it.”

  Tess lost interest in the other woman the moment she stepped inside. She immediately saw the appeal of the house. Her experienced eye noted that the wood floors—were they maple or sycamore rather than the more common oak?—were in good condition, considering. They badly needed refinishing, but she didn’t see any irreparable gouges, water stains or rot.

  She mentally listed the jobs that needed to be done. Sandblast the fireplace and replace mortar. Strip paint from the thick slab of wood that formed the mantel. Peering at it more closely, she suspected that Zach would find himself stripping off many layers of paint. But she bet he’d find something interesting under it all. A lot of wallboard would need replacing or patching. Refinish or replace molding.

  She and Paige chatted as they went to the kitchen, where she set her Crock-Pot on the counter with relief and plugged it in. “Do you suppose Zach would mind if I wander and check out the rest of the house? I don’t know if he told you I’m in the business.”

  “Real estate?”

  “No, remodeling. My partner and I own Fabulous Interiors.” She smiled. “In case you ever need new blinds, flooring or tile.”

  Paige’s smile was polite but she didn’t appear very interested. “I live in Mount Vernon, and in an apartment, at that. All maintenance is my landlord’s obligation, thank goodness.”

  “When’s the wedding?”

  “This summer. July twenty-third—” Her head turned at the sound of other voices. “Excuse me. That might be Stella.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Instead of inspecting the kitchen more closely, Tess slipped into the hall and poked her head into more rooms. Male voices came from above along with occasional, alarming thuds—bundles of shingles being dropped?—and the tearing sounds of boards being ripped up. Someone was hammering up there, too. The ceiling quivered in one bedroom as she looked up and she hastily withdrew.

  The bedrooms were nothing special, but the ceilings were high and some of the molding seemed worth keeping. She liked the proportions. The bathroom? Well...there wasn’t much he could do but tear it down to studs.

  At the back of the house she found a glassed-in porch that had hookups for a washer and dryer. It was too nice a space to waste on a utility room, she thought, then looked through the windows to the backyard, where the construction activity seemed to be centered. A man stood on one of the two tall ladders propped against the house, visible to her only up to his armpits. As she watched, another man descended the other ladder and dropped lightly to his feet on the grass, his muscles flexing with athletic ease.

  Zach.

  He stayed where he was, apparently listening to what someone up above was saying. Then his head turned and his eyes locked on her.

  For a moment all they did was look at each other. She had that shocking sense of connection just as she’d had that first day over Antonio’s battered body. As if the rest of the world blurred and only he remained in focus.

 
She couldn’t let these feelings be any more than trust and professional dependence, even if she was attracted to him. He was still taboo—and she’d be an idiot to forget that he was restoring this house only so he could sell it at a profit and move on.

  CHAPTER SIX

  WHEN THE CREW took a break for lunch, Zach introduced Tess and Bran. She’d noticed him earlier, thinking that Paige was right—the resemblance was unmistakable. Of a similar height, both men had the same lean, strong builds. Zach’s cheekbones and jaw were more sharply honed, Bran’s face more roughly sculpted. Tess was unnerved to be faced by two pairs of bright blue eyes.

  The most obvious difference was that Bran’s hair was a deep auburn instead of brown. His extra years showed in deepened creases on his forehead and at his eyes, too.

  She smiled, said the right things and shook hands with him, but had the strange thought that she’d never have been attracted to him even if he did look an awful lot like Zach. He had an air of remoteness that made her suppress a shiver.

  The two men appeared comfortable in work boots, faded jeans and T-shirts. Zach had worn a tool belt earlier, too, as comfortably as he did his holster and handgun on his day job. The day wasn’t hot, but Tess wouldn’t be surprised if some of the men went shirtless by midafternoon. She secretly hoped Zach was one of them.

  “We came close to meeting before,” Bran surprised her by saying.

  “Really? When?”

  “I was there the day you roared in to confront Detective Delancy.”

  Tess involuntarily made a face.

  He laughed, although if he was genuinely amused, it didn’t show in his chilly blue eyes. “Several of us saw the confrontation. I think you scared him.”

  “Good. He’s a jerk.” Suddenly she felt warmth in her cheeks. “Um, I hope he isn’t a friend of yours.”

  “No. We work together.”

  “I do remember a couple of other men watching. You’re the tall one.”

  That was a silly thing to say. Tess didn’t like how he intimidated her.

  “Compared to Lieutenant Arnold, yes.” He looked past her. “Paige.”

  His mouth curved into a smile and he slipped an arm around his fiancée, but Tess didn’t see any softening of his general mien. Her eyes lingered on him as Paige led him away to solve some dispute over a long-past pickup basketball game.

  “What are you thinking?” Zach asked quietly.

  She started then forced a smile. “Just curious. You two look a lot alike but...”

  “But?”

  “I just have a feeling he’d be hard to get to know.”

  He glanced after his brother, too. “He and I know where each other is coming from.”

  “Even though you haven’t spent much time together in the past few years?”

  “Past few?” His tilted smile held no amusement whatsoever. “Try twenty-five. The last time I saw him, I was nine years old and he was twelve.”

  “What?” She gaped at him. “You’re serious? It wasn’t just your father you lost touch with?”

  “I’m serious. Our parents parted ways, Bran and I each made a choice, and that was it.” He shrugged. “Mom and Dad didn’t mean it to be that way, but—” His frown was a mere flicker but suggested he hadn’t meant to say as much as he had. “By the way, I don’t think I thanked you for coming today, Tess. You’ve been working hard, too.”

  He could shut down emotions and any possible questions like no one she’d ever met. Although Tess had a suspicion his brother was as good at it if not better.

  “I thought everyone at this little party was supposed to work,” she said lightly.

  “Yeah, but some are working harder than others.” His gaze flicked again to his brother and the fiancée. Paige’s only contribution had been laying out the food and producing paper plates, napkins and plastic cutlery.

  “We all have our strengths.”

  “True.”

  He stood at ease beside her but had kept at least a couple of feet of separation all day. She had the impression he was making sure no one made the mistake of thinking they were intimate.

  That was smart, given the other deputies here today. She had felt a little uneasy earlier when she’d become aware of a man watching her and one of the other women identified him as a cop. There hadn’t been anything to object to, but...

  Shaking off the niggling unease, she tipped her head back, shading her eyes with her hand. From this angle, she saw fresh boards and the edge of the last row of shingles that had been nailed down. “Are you happy with the progress?” she asked.

  “Amazed by it.” He shook his head. “I never expected a turnout like this. Most of the guys have worked their butts off, too. We should finish tomorrow, easy.”

  “So you’ll be able to move in.”

  “Yeah.” His eyes glinted with amusement. “You didn’t say what you think.”

  “You mean about the house? I love what I’ve seen of it. I didn’t go upstairs.”

  “There’s not much up there. One decent-size bedroom and a smaller room that might have been a study or, I don’t know, nursery or sewing room. I intend to turn it into a second bathroom.”

  “That’s a good idea. I will say, if I were you, I’d tackle the downstairs’ bathroom before anything else. Except maybe the front porch.”

  He laughed. “Before I lose a UPS man through the rotten boards, you mean? And you’re right. The porch and bathroom are running neck and neck at the top of my list.”

  Someone called his name. He waved at the man and bent to pick up his tool belt, fastening it around his waist. “Back to work.”

  Tess looked around for her heavy gloves. “Me, too.” She and a couple of other women had tried to keep up with the debris, hauling everything that wasn’t too heavy to the two Dumpsters Zach had rented.

  His hand on her arm stopped her. It was the first time he’d touched her today. “I don’t know if you can make it tomorrow...” he began, his voice low, velvety-deep.

  “Do you want me to come?” She didn’t know why but she spoke softly, too.

  “Yeah.” His eyes were intense. “You don’t have to, but...”

  “I’ll be here.” She was almost whispering.

  “Good.” He cleared his throat. “You can call me in the middle of the night, you know. If anything happens.”

  “And wake you up, too?”

  “I worry about you,” he murmured.

  The expression in his eyes was so compelling, Tess couldn’t look away. She was afraid she swayed toward him.

  But suddenly Bran was there, standing between them and the rest of the crew. Glaring at Zach. “Dial it back, bro,” he snapped. “Watching out for her is one thing, sleeping with her is another.”

  Tess’s lips shaped the word What?

  Zach’s teeth showed. “We were talking. That’s all. And I didn’t ask you to chaperone.”

  “You should have,” he snapped. “And if you’re not sleeping together, you want to be.” He gave Tess a brief glance that was probably supposed to be apologetic but failed in its intent. “Sorry.” He scowled again at Zach. “Let’s get back to work.”

  Knowing her face was beet red, Tess slipped away, leaving the two to glower at each other. Oh, God—was that what everyone was thinking? That she and Zach—

  Oh, who was she kidding? Isn’t that what she had been thinking?

  But Bran was right. They did need to be careful. Andrew Hayes might get away with beating Antonio to death if what she and Zach had said was cast into doubt because they were seen to be in collusion.

  Hayes needed to pay, she thought fiercely. That meant...she shouldn’t come tomorrow.

  She shouldn’t have come today, either.

  Tess didn’t let herself look toward Zach, now climbing
one of the ladders. She went back to work, scooping up armfuls of thick moss and damp, pulpy shakes while being cautious about protruding nails and making repeated trips around the corner of the house to the Dumpsters.

  If Zach took off his shirt that afternoon, she didn’t see him. She couldn’t let herself look.

  * * *

  WHAT SHOULD HAVE been satisfaction the next day wasn’t. Because Tess wasn’t there.

  She had called first thing in the morning to let him know there’d been no phoned-in threat last night. He didn’t know if that qualified as good news or not.

  Then she’d said, “I figure you can do without my limited labor today.” Her tone was light but hadn’t fooled him. “Your brother was right. We should avoid being seen together.”

  She’d made the best decision. Zach knew it, but raged at the necessity. He’d enjoyed yesterday, seeing the progress on the house, sure, but also because he’d caught regular glimpses of Tess working her butt off, laughing at jokes or teasing someone else, blushing when he caught her stealing glances at him.

  Seeing her genuine enthusiasm for what he was trying to do with the house had energized him, too. This evening, he felt...let down...even though he now had a new roof and maybe some new friends.

  He’d been amazed at how many of his crew had showed up for the second day. A few had been missing because, this being Monday, they’d had to work, but two neighbors showed up ready to pitch in, including Dean Thompson from right next door. The boy had helped haul debris, too, and Karen, accompanied by her wide-eyed daughter, had brought over pitchers of lemonade.

  But Tess’s absence had clouded Zach’s mood all day.

  Once everyone was gone, he found himself prowling through the house, evaluating it anew. Physically exhausted, he still felt restless. He found himself trying to see it through Tess’s eyes.

  She was right—the glassed-in porch had potential as a sort of sitting room or casual dining room. It occurred to him that, since it stretched all the way across the back of the house, he could divide it, keeping a small utility room while opening the rest of the space to the kitchen. Yeah, that would work.